


Colors

by goddamnitkastlewrites



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-20 20:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11928321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitkastlewrites/pseuds/goddamnitkastlewrites
Summary: First posted to goddamnitkastle.tumblr.com on August 26, 2017.This was a fic I wrote for Day 3 of #KastleRadio Week, which was inspired by Colors by Halsey.The original summary is below:"I wrote this a while back, specifically for this week. I hope it’s still good.Enjoy :)"





	Colors

Frank’s in her bathroom, coughing into her poor excuse of a sink. Karen is frantically trying to find as many of her towels as she can but from the way he’s hacking up his lungs she knows it’s not going to help. Regardless she steps in and places a face cloth in his hand. His knuckles are scraped, the skin a threadbare patchwork just barely concealing his muscle and bones. 

She’s aware that he’s bleeding elsewhere, pools of red have appeared around his feet in the time she was gone. 

“Frank, we have to get you out of your clothes." 

He doesn’t answer as he wipes his mouth with her facecloth. Instantly red. She’s about to tell him that she needs to find where he’s bleeding from but the question dies on her tongue. In the dim light he is grotesque, a Jackson Pollock masterpiece exploding onto himself and her bathroom. Blood continues to drip from his mouth, from a gash on his bicep, his chest, his head. He is spilling out and overflowing and it’s too much right now. He’s never looked this old to her. Or as broken. His eyes are closed and he’s wheezing. His head is tilted up, like he’s waiting for a rapture coming only for him. 

She can’t bring herself to touch him, to pull him back into the world. She knows that time might be precious and these could be his last seconds but it’s mesmerizing. To see such colors and to see him still here after so much. It’s like a sunrise and a sunset all in one. The dying of one day there but the beginning of another not far behind. 

He lurches forward and grips the sink again, more blood. Karen snaps out of her reverie, goes immediately to his side. She hoists his arm around her shoulders, places a hand on his stomach. 

"Frank, we’re going to the bathtub. It’s just a few steps, okay? Stay with me." 

” ’M here ma'am.“ His response coming out guttural and clogged. 

She takes it as a yes and they limp to her equally poor excuse of a bath tub. It’s only two steps but she gets him in there. He’s leaning again the wall of her shower. She begins to pull his hoodie off but he collapses. She barely catches him and all she feels is blood in his embrace. She steadies him again and she gets the hoodie off. She’s able to get him shirtless and decides that it’s a start. 

She turns on the shower and reaches for a towel. She turns back and to her surprise he takes it and starts scrubbing. The water is the color of red clay, mud, ink. He seems more alert now but he still has glossy eyes. 

"I’m gonna get you your clothes. Are you okay?" 

” ’M fine. Go.“ 

She closes the door behind her, heads for her bedroom. She’s about to open the dresser drawer where she keeps the spare sweats and shirt for him when she catches her reflection. She stifles a scream, a hand on her mouth and she’s met with regret. 

It’s everywhere. She’s covered, saturated in red on her neck, in black as the blood mixes with the blue of her favorite bedtime shirt. And now she has a handprint on her mouth. Her focus blurs and her mind becomes white noise. 

She is back there again. Hanging upside down, the pavement now a sky of red and blue. Blood drips down onto the roof of the car, staining the broken glass into rubies. Kevin is next to her, motionless. The white noise only gets louder and louder. 

Then a hand is on her shoulder. She looks at Claire in confusion; she didn’t know her then, she shouldn’t be the one pulling her out of the car. Karen hears another voice, sees devil horns behind Claire’s head. Nothing is making sense so she decides to focus on Kevin. But he only serves as a reminder, a reminder of all she has become and why she is here now. That pain weighs heavier than anything she has endured tonight.


End file.
